


Dr. Maheswaran's Prognosis

by SAWF



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Paizuri, Titjob, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAWF/pseuds/SAWF
Summary: Going in for a routine exam, you find yourself enjoying the doctor's office a lot more this time around.
Relationships: Priyanka Maheswaran/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Dr. Maheswaran's Prognosis

There was something about hospitals that never sat right with you, whether it was the hordes of plagued children touching everything, the streams of elderly people hunched over in their chairs, or the television in the corner of the waiting room that was either too small or was tuned into some soap opera you never had the guts to change for fear of upsetting the poor souls who might've been following along. Today you found yourself among the thralls of other patients stuck waiting in the purgatory between seeing an actual doctor or risking their own well-being at home. You felt a sense of guilt as you tried to hide your bandaged finger from the others, a meager ailment compared to what ever else the others must be afflicted with.

Sitting in the corner designated as the “waiting area” by the nurse who advised you sit down and wait for your name to be called, you counted an hour, then two. Time seemed to be an illusion amidst the stark white walls and sterile equipment. The pain pulsing out of your finger dulled, and as the fluorescent lighting haunted the upper peripherals of your vision, you shut your eyes to drown out everything. You weren't sure how long you had been asleep, only that you were stirred awake by a hand on your shoulder.

“Hello, sir?” The nurse said, hovering over you in their green scrubs. “You're ready to go on in.” They pointed you towards an open door leading towards the back area where you assumed a chemical bath was acquired. “It's the third room on the right, just sit tight and the doctor will be in shortly.” You remarked how weirdly they made the phrase “sit tight” sound in a setting such as this, but you brushed it off as you counted the passing doors, stopping as soon as you made it to your supposed destination.

Immediately, your eyes caught the name neatly etched in bronze on the white slab of wood, “DR. MAHESWARAN.” If contracting a virus wasn't enough of a worry on your mind, now you had to contend with the possibility of mispronouncing your caregiver's name to their face. Nevertheless, you stepped inside and situated yourself on the bed lined with the paper that you always found difficult to keep uniform. As soon as you shifted your weight, the sheet became dragged under you, and you had to shuffle about to adjust it back into place.

During your ordeal, you heard the click of a doorknob snap the air as a woman let herself in, adorning a doctor's coat and carrying what you interpreted to be your medical files.

“Anon, is it?” She asked before she even looked at you. Her long, brown, bouffant hair bounced with each precise step she took as she traced a line in front of the bed you were on. “Says you...hurt your finger...doing what exactly?” She eyed you in a manner that made you uneasy to even be there. Her face held with it years of experience, but what she made up for in knowledge she apparently lacked in patience for anything trivial.

“I, uh...I was at work and I scraped it pretty bad against a metal counter.” You replied, rubbing your knuckles and trying not to call attention to the bandages around your right hand. “I told them it wasn't a big deal, but my boss insisted I go straight here!” The doctor's gaze shifted between you and your covered wound. Despite your argument, she seemed even less convinced than before.

“Really, now?” She marked down something on a clipboard and approached you, eclipsing the light fixture on the ceiling with her figure. Bearing down overtop of you, you felt even smaller than you did before walking in here. “Well then, let's see it.” She extended her hand as if to confiscate a toy from a child. Hesitating for a moment, you realized she meant for you to let her examine your injury.

“It's...it's not that bad, I mean I can barely feel it.” You didn't want to say anymore for fear of disturbing her as she began to unwrap the dressing. Even before the last strip came off, you could see the layers soaked in your blood. It was enough to even usher a response from the doctor, who whistled sharply.

“Darn kid, you did a number on yourself. Here,” She leaned in close, gripping your other wrist, and standing it over your head in an effort to stunt the blood-flow. “Grip your wrist like that, and keep it up there for a minute, alright?” Getting so close however, you could feel the pressure of her chest against your own. Her bra was rigid and sturdy, as if holding back a sizable mass delicately hidden underneath her modest attire. Her hair smelled of coconuts and her breath of mint; the combination making you idly inhale sharply, hoping to savor the sudden close proximity.

It wasn't until she began to wave her hand in front of your face that you realized you were caught in a daydream again.

“Hey! Stay with me now.” She cocked her head to the side and examined your pupils, trying to detect any hint of fading consciousness. “You said it doesn't hurt that much? Is your entire hand numb?” Snapping to attention, you realized she was addressing you again.

“Uhh, yeah, for the most part, yeah.” You didn't dare bring your hand back down for fear of jinxing yourself and inviting a surge of pain to shoot up through your arm. “I've kept it under wraps since it happened.”

“Hmm, well it doesn't look bad enough to warrant stitches, and you don't seem like you're in agony...I think we'll be good with some antibiotic spray and another dressing. Don't want to risk an infection and lose the thing, right?” You figured that was her attempt at doctor humor, but the idea of your hand being a finger short after everything was said and done didn't sit well with your stomach. In spite of that, as she set her clipboard down on the counter, she reached up into an overhead cupboard, feeling around for what she was in search for. You couldn't help but notice that her pants grew taut over her legs and rear, stretching the tan material over her well-endowed extremities. The waistline stopped right above her prominent hips, striking you with the sudden realization that she had to be a mother.

You veered your eyes away just as she turned back around, an armful of supplies that she held close to her bosom.

“Alright, now then,” Grabbing a stool with wheels on it, she kicked herself away from the counter and towards you, stopping just short of her hair brushing against your nose. “Let's see here.” Laying out the assorted boxes and bottles, she covered her arms and hands in sanitizing alcohol before slipping on a pair of gloves, both of which you felt were a bit overkill, but you knew better than to question a professional's methods.

Adjusting her attire, she grabbed a spray bottle in one hand and the bandages in the other, moving in quickly as she continued her work. As soon as you heard her pull down on the bottle, a cool liquid coated your wound which was followed by almost a blinding pain shooting through your entire arm. Out of reflex, you winced and bared your teeth, trying to disassociate yourself with the pain until it subsided. Unfortunately, you found your movement cushioned with the doctor's plush chest; your face nearly engulfed in her shirt before your realized what you had just done.

“Oh crap, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!!” You pulled away quickly, only to be shoved back down into her chest.

“Quit moving around like that, you're fine.” The doctor remarked idly, not seeming to mind the intimate contact between you two. You could feel the heat of her chest radiate even through her bra, with a large gap in the middle of them indicating how expansive her cleavage was even through her coat and button-up shirt. Not minding her lax nature, you let your head rest against her body as she tactfully made quick work of your hand, wrapping it up neat and carefully through sheer muscle memory alone. Taping her handiwork done, she gave it one last look-over before laying a hand on your shoulder and peering down at you.

“There we are, how's that feel? Not too tight?” The doctor was obviously ignoring her almost smothering you with her chest, but you figured it was just her trying to be formal in her job.

“Er, fine...?” You tried to wiggle your finger and found it completely encased in bandaging, but at least the subtle stinging was beginning to fade. “Actually, that feels a lot better, thank you!”

Her expression remained indifferent as she nodded and wrote something down on her clipboard, situating herself back on the stool. A few moments passed, and then some more as you were unsure if you were done or not. The building dread of her confronting you damn near motorboating her began to plague your thoughts. The growing uncertainty in the air was about to bubble over before she folded a leg in front of her and brushed her hair off her shoulder.

“It says here you're right-handed?” She motioned towards her sheets with her pen.

“Uhh...yes?” You remember mentioning that to the nurse earlier when you first stepped into the clinic. “I mean, I can do stuff with my other hand, but it's kinda awkward.”

“I see...” She paused for a few moments, dangling her foot in the air. “And how many times per day do you...masturbate?” She situated the pen between her lips as her cheeks turned a slight shade of red. Your eyes widened in surprise as you believe you had somehow misheard her question.

“E-Excuse me?!”

“I said,” She stood up and strutted towards you, making sure to let her hips sway with each step. She bent over, letting gravity pull her chests downwards, putting stress against the buttons of her attire. “How many times...per day...do you masturbate?” The shadows cast over her face made her much more intimidating than before. Her eyes carried a sultry interest as you found yourself becoming lost in them. Not wanting to disappoint her, you felt compelled to answer truthfully.

“I mean...I work a lot so...maybe like once or twice? Sometimes twice a week?” She raised her eyebrows in amusement before a hand began to make its way down her coat, undoing the buttons in rhythmic fashion as she laid a hand on your thigh. You turned your head away bashfully, hoping you answered her question well enough.

“'Twice a week' you say! Well, for a boy your age that certainly surprises me. You've got so much pent up energy, so many experiences to learn...” Her coat slipped down her arms as she puffed her chest out, making her bust appear even larger. “You think I couldn't feel your eyes on me the entire time I walked in? You should be ashamed, lusting after an older, married woman like me.” Biting her lip, she began to undo the buttons running up her shirt, keeping the luscious skin underneath hidden from your view. “But...as a medical professional, I can't just release a patient unable to help himself.” Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, her face adopted an intense look as her hands suddenly yanked her shirt apart, with a lacy, black bra busting forth. “At least not without giving him the proper treatment...”

Your mouth fell open as you tried to edge further back on the bed, caught off guard as she placed her hands on opposite sides of you. She let her face linger mere inches away from yours as a bead of sweat ran down your brow.

“Don't worry dear, I'll make sure you're taken care of.” Lowering her head, she ran her hands down your chest and stomach before stopping at your groin, staring intently at an obvious bulge running down your thigh. “Getting like this and I haven't even touched you yet,” She remarked, gripping your waistline. “You must've been thinking some pretty lecherous thoughts about me, weren't you?” Not waiting for an answer, she popped the button and pulled down the zipper, giggling throughout as your pants began to slip down your legs. Seeing a number of wet spots on your trousers, she stifled a fit of laughter as your erection bounced free from its prison. “And I thought my husband got excited when he saw me!”

You felt awkward hearing her discuss her homelife, but your worries subsided as she pressed her gloved palm against your swollen member, cooing as she brought her face closer.

“Such a poor boy, keeping all his frustrations pent up inside like this?” She smirked cockily, cupping the underside of your cock in her palm. “It's been a few days since you've done it, hasn't it?” Your silence was enough to satisfy her suspicions. You didn't dare question her intuition; it frightened you enough to wonder what else she might know just from a simple physical examination. “Your scrotum twitches every time I rub you like this.” Her face blushed even darker amidst her snickering. “And this smell...” She stuck her nose close to the underside and inhaled deeply, her eyelids fluttering as if lost in a trance. “God, a woman could get drunk like this...”

Reaching to your side, she opened up a bottle of clear gel, and squirted a copious amount into her hand, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. Squeezing it through her fingers, you could clearly make out it was lubricant. Your eyes focused tightly on her beginning to spread it throughout the canyon formed between her breasts, thoroughly giving them a wondrous sheen that mixed in with her building sweat. Sitting up, you saw a twinkle of motherly nurturing in her eye become engulfed in an instinctual lust; a primal, feminine desire.

Your head felt light as she slipped your cock between her breasts, slipping the swollen mushroom-tip around and covering it with the same lubricating substance. Once her handiwork was completed, she pulled you in close, keeping a firm grip on your buttocks as she lined your crotch in place with her chest.

“Comfy?” She asked, to which you could barely usher a nod. Your arousal was clouding your judgment and you felt inclined to let her go about her business. Using nothing but her bra to keep the pressure around your shaft, she began to slide her chest up and down. Her movements were slow and gingerly, watching in delight as your tip emerged through her cleavage before being engulfed by it. “Your pulse...I can feel it through your cock.” She muttered, pursing her lips as she picked up her pace.

The stimulation beforehand, coupled with her current affection, produced a bead of precum to emerge where your shaft emerged, mixing in with the gel and smearing her breasts with your arousal. Each time her ample chest fell, your rod split her cleavage apart, quivering as she began to kiss the tip with each descent, marking the frenulum with her lipstick. Each soft peck sent shivers up your spine and turned the bead of precum into a steady stream. Seeing you weren't going to move anymore, she brought a hand back between your legs, cupping your sack as she fumbled with it between her fingers.

“Well, well, you're getting even more worked up than before.” The doctor discerned, tossing back her hair again. “You're getting my breasts all dirty...” She stuck out her lips and held them close to the tip of your prick - almost throbbing in anticipation for more of her attention. “You feel like you're about to burst already.” She pressed a finger to her lips, a string of your excitement still clung to her lips and connected the two together. “It's okay if you want to.”

Baring your teeth, you tried your best to focus away from how easily she was able to work you over. Your body felt like putty underneath her touch, and her commentary was doing little to help. Hormones filled your head with joyful fantasies and made your body feel alight in arduous desire. The more she cradled you and pulled you towards her, the more your nerves and resolve begin to waver. The fluttering pressure in your lower stomach desired a release, and she was able to extend the euphoria to the point of insanity.

“D-Doctor Mahe-Maheswor-!” You choked, struggling to quell your moaning. She looked up, her lips still pressed against the underside of your cock's head.

“Just call me Priyanka, dear.” The suction and vibration against her mouth ushered another lazy stream of precum to flow down, to which she lapped it up diligently.

“Pri-! Priyanka!” Your hips began to thrust upwards, seeking more of her pleasure through your own effort. The sudden action caught her off guard as well as the tip of your cock slipped past her lips and embedded itself halfway into her mouth. Her eyes shot wide-open as a deep groan from your throat signaled your release.

A surging tide of blissful heat flowed through your cock and into the woman's mouth. Her cheeks immediately swelled as your seed spewed forth, a torrent that steadily built as each throbbing pulse produced more of the substance. Her lips locked down around your circumference and immediately you could feel tongue slip back and forth in an effort to swallow the excess sperm. Holding her breasts together with your thighs, you tried your best to keep your composure, but the sheer magnitude of your orgasm was much greater than what you were used to. You felt your balls lurch in tandem with the resounding wave of pleasure washing over you.

The amount of backed up cum proved too much for the doctor whose lock around your tip loosened just enough for a cascade of white to descend from her mouth into her cleavage, running down into the expanse as she hacked and coughed for air. A startled moan followed suit until she took your length in once more, lovingly sucking down the streams of white that still emanated. The sensation of your orgasm began to die down as her mouth popped off, licking the rest of your cock clean.

The rush of adrenaline left you light-headed. Lying back, you felt a sense of calming relief begin to inundate you before you realized the woman still between your legs.

Peeking through heavy eyelids, Priyanka was still marveling at what she just witnessed, breathing heavily. You noticed your cum dripping off her chin and into the pool collecting around your prick; only then did she shift her attention to her soaked chest.

“Wha-wow!” She exclaimed, looking down at herself with fascination. “I don't even remember my husband doing something like that!” A smile parted her lips as she gripped your slowly deflating cock. Life began to seep out of it, but it still showed remnants of its girth. She planted another kiss on it and squeezed her breasts together, taking care not to spill any of the spunk that slathered about between them. “Warn me next time before you decide to shove it in my mouth before you cum, I could've avoided the mess this time.” She cleared her throat once more before running her fingers through the thick substance. “I've gotta say though, you certainly were backed up.” Seeing you were still gawking at her, she chuckled lightly and winked at your stunned expression. “Good to know I've still got it!”

Making her way over to a sink, she swiftly removed her shirt and bra, letting her breasts drape as the rest of your cum flowed down the peaks. Turning on the faucet, she hastily lathered each mound and sighed as the water washed away any stubborn residue. Still in a daze, you perched yourself up on your elbows. Watching her bent over, your eyes were once again drawn to the slight indentation of her underwear formed along her rear as her pants seemed even tighter than before. 

Priyanka felt your eyes on her again as she turned to look over her shoulder at you, scoffing as she saw your prick still half-erect.

“You keep oogling me child, and you'll end up getting hard again.” She laid back against the counter, drying off her breasts with a paper towel, sliding her hand around each tit until it was to her liking. “And then I'll never be able to go home!” Tossing her head back, she chuckled to herself until she realized you were still looking at her concernedly.

“Do you-? I mean, would you like me to...to you?”

“What!?” Priyanka replied, bemused. “Oh no no, you've already done enough for me!” She patted her stomach enthusiastically to assert her point. "I can skip my afternoon snack now, thanks to you!" Seeing your apprehensiveness linger, she pondered the thought until an idea came to her. “Here,” She picked up her discarded bra and approached you, her breasts casually swaying in the open air. Grabbing your uninjured hand, she placed the black cups in it and perched her brows at you. “Just in case you get in the mood again, you can use this to help. That should do the trick right?” She grinned wickedly as she retrieved her shirt and labcoat, turning back around in time to catch you beginning to fix your pants. “And just in case you can't get me out of your head by say...next week,” She hooked her thumb into her waistband, pulling it down her hip just enough to reveal an intricately laced pair of black panties. “You come back and I'll make sure you leave with a little more than just my underwear!”


End file.
